The Triplets
by Libby.not.a.slave.to.fashion
Summary: The triplets despised the rain. They each had their own reasons. But they all, deep inside themselves, loathed the rain because it reminded them that they cared.


Hello, triplets! woot! They're really funny, all unemotional and all. Finally got this up! Yay! I'm gonna go dye my hair now. Bye!

Everyone has heard rain described as a pitter-patter, but this rain was different. This rain was a monster. The rain slapped against the windows, and the servants watched the pains restlessly for fear they would break at the abuse suffered keeping the rain out of the mansion. The wind could be heard all through the house, running circles around it until the occupants were dizzy and deaf. Every now and again some object, carried by the wind, would hit the roof, causing a crashing sound to emanate throughout the manor. The servants kept their eyes to the floor for fear they would find a hole in the roof. The lightning was far off in the distance, but they could still hear it. Every five minutes they would hear a loud crack. This rain had been going on for two days now, and showed no sign of stopping in the near future. The servants were at their whit's end.

Thankfully, Claude knew how to put Alois to sleep. If that monster of a master had been up and about during this particular night, the servants would get nothing done. Of course not even the grace of God, Hell forbid it, would keep Alois asleep through the whole night. Without fail, every two hours they would hear Alois scream for Claude. Claude would hurry to Alois's room with no emotion. But every once in a while, if another servant was nearby, and watching, they would see a flash of annoyance across Claude's face. They all knew Claude's patience was wearing thin. Soon Claude would take Alois's soul whether he wanted him to or not.

The triplets despised the rain. They each had their own reasons. Timber, because of the mud that made it hard, and messy to do anything outside. Thompson, because the thunder would make Alois cry, and startle him every once in a while. And Canterbury, because of the darkness that caused all the servants to light the lamps, even in the middle of the day, wasting so much fuel, and dirtying the walls with soot. But they all, deep inside themselves, loathed the rain because it reminded them that they cared. They cared about how they were treated, they cared that they were servants.

They cared that Alois was a little monster. They cared that he was a worthless human, who was a whore for the old master of the manor, and that he lied about who he was, and that he loved Claude, and that, even as young boy he had been a monster.

They cared that Hannah was abused, and her eye gouged out. They hated the memory, but the rain made them nostalgic. They remembered their helplessness when Alois had done it. All they could do was watch. The three of them could not contain their growing hatred for the human who was called Alois. Even if the little monster himself couldn't tell, Claude could. He could tell that the triplets wanted to rip him limb from limb. Alois never hurt any of the triplets, though sometimes they would catch themselves wishing he would, instead of Hannah.

Lesser demons like Hannah and the triplets felt a primal connection to each other that the more advanced demons had shed long ago. They fought each other mercilessly, but respected and stood up for others of their kind. They were like siblings, fighting amongst each other, but beating up bullies

who threatened their brothers and sisters. Timber, Thompson, and Canterbury felt this way for Hannah, and Hannah for them.

They also hated the rain because it reminded them that Claude had roped them into working for this wretched boy. The soul of this particular human wasn't even worth a load of crap amongst the other demons.

The rain reminded them of their jealousy of Sebastian. Sebastian had a good master. Fair to him and the other servants, and a fine soul. Canterbury had seen the look on Claude's face when he had tasted the Young Master Ciel's blood. It was a look of hunger, of wanting, of lust for the boy's soul. They wanted the boy's soul for themselves. If the soul was so potent that Claude almost ignored his own master, then it must be a delicacy amongst delicacies.

The triplets hated the rain. They loathed it above all things.


End file.
